Chapter 3
Chapter Three
When it rained, it poured. Emmaleigh thought the phrase must have been made with her in mind.
Ever since she had received word of her impending meeting with the Council of Elders, her stomach had been in knots.
She’d almost puked up the few sips of her blood ration she’d tried to gulp down, and ended up giving the remainder to Angie instead.
Just after sunset, she reached the garage and shoved open the door. The low, rumbling motor purr of a well-maintained engine greeted her. One of the coven’s armored cars idled in the parking slot, the driver already behind the wheel.
The mysterious driver popped the trunk. She tossed her gear inside and crossed over to the passenger side, only to discover her escort was none other than Adrian himself.
Shit.
Like her, he’d dressed for the cold and blustery weather, but he wore a dark, woolen coat to his knees, a thick scarf around his neck, and thick leather gloves on his hands.
Five hours. She could endure five hours, she was sure.
“Buckle up,” Adrian said, tone curt.
He pressed the button to raise the garage door and reversed onto the driveway as she clicked her belt into place. Seconds later, they were traveling north through Dartmouth.
Adrian drove in silence with his jaw clenched and eyes on the road as if she weren’t there at all.
The rich aroma of his blood taunted her, filling the car, circulated by the vents.
She stared out the front windshield, trying to ignore him.
But how did she ignore his scent, the cologne he wore, and his every quiet breath? The first hour of silence killed her.
It was torturous, adding to the anxiety already curling through her. “Are they going to kill me?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“Not if I can help it.” He cleared his throat and glanced to the right, making eye contact so briefly Emma could have imagined it happened at all.
“I’ve been sent to accompany you as your counsel.
To be honest, I don’t believe they’ll kill you.
The incident in San Antonio happened long after you came to us. ”
“I don’t understand why they want to see me, or what my time there has to do with that attack. I just want to be left alone, run my spa, and live my life.”
“Did you make any enemies in San Antonio?”
“No, not really. I got along with everyone. I just wanted to leave, is all.”
“The Overseers uncovered something recently. It isn’t my place to tell you, but I’ll be damned if we send you blind into this hearing with the council.
” He paused for a moment, grim features lit only by the occasional glow of headlights gleaming from the opposite direction. “You deserve to know what’s happening.”
“Which is?”
“Photographs of you were found in a Fort Worth safe house belonging to the Order of Radiant Light. This wasn’t a random attack, not like we thought it to be.”
Emma’s hands shook, despite her effort to keep her emotions in check. Becoming a target for that awful cult was as good as having a death sentence over her head by the council. “Why would anyone from Texas travel all the way to Dartmouth for me?”
“That’s what the council would like to ask you,” he replied. “I’ve always known them to be fair, if not lost in tradition, Emma. They won’t kill you.”
“Fine.” She looked away again and shifted in her seat, only to reach out and adjust her climate control, aiming warm air at herself. She lapsed into silence while minutes ticked by, waiting until Adrian surrendered more information.
“They’ll want to know what you may have done while in Texas to gain the attention of the hunters. It’s what I would ask you.” He paused for a few moments and then added, “I’m not blaming you or finger-pointing, but it’s important to consider.”
“I didn’t do anything,” she grumbled. “No killings. No blood orgies. I didn’t go on shifter hunts or any crap like that. I had the night shift at a bar serving drinks, attended evening classes on my days off, and did online courses. I basically stayed out of trouble and minded my own business.”
“Blood orgies.” A chuckle escaped him and amusement flitted across his features, ruining the stoic mask. Adrian never laughed, and she’d thought him completely incapable of showing emotion until their morning on security watch in the control room.
“Yeah. Don’t ask.”
He snorted. “The term is self-explanatory,” he replied. “And hardly a new invention. Vampires have indulged in blood orgies since the old ones first walked the earth.”
She grunted and slouched lower in her seat. “They brought the old tradition back about five years or so before I left.”
“And you said something about hunts? Was that an exaggeration, or did they really go out after the shifter community?” A hint of his original accent slipped through, revealing the Scottish brogue he always dropped in day-to-day conversation.
“Some of the coven members liked to test boundaries,” she replied.
“You know, see if they could get the shifters to break the truce. It was dumb, but so were they. The old master, he just ignored it. Then the new one came in and, well, that’s when I decided to leave.
Margot encouraged shit like that, but never openly. ”
“I see.” He gazed thoughtfully through the windshield.
“If I haven’t been clear in the past, I’m glad you were able to escape when you did.
What happened in Texas was a foul, inexcusable thing—the cannibalization of an Ancient One.
And if the council believes you were involved, I’ll gladly testify that isn’t the case.
I should know. While you are proficient in combat, you’ve never done anything to imply you’ve gained some sort of extraordinary ability.
Besides, Lamashtu died long after you moved here. ”
Emma shivered. “There’s no proof of that. We don’t know when Margot murdered her. For all we know, she could have concealed the ashes for months.”
Ever since the council had sent news to Belleridge about the state of the coven in San Antonio, she’d felt a sense of deep relief for departing from the oppressive atmosphere. Trusting her strange gift had allowed her to escape the volatile situation before everything exploded into chaotic hell.
But would the council believe she’d inherited her precognition after participating in the cannibalization of Lamashtu?
“I had no idea what they would eventually do,” she whispered. “If I had, I would have told someone.”
It began with their original coven leader vacating his position and nominating Margot Calloway to rule in his place. As the master of liaisons in a smaller coven in Georgia, she’d come to them full of Southern charm and hospitality.
Despite her homemade peach tea, saccharine smiles, and friendly greetings, something about Margot had rubbed Emma the wrong way, even though she couldn’t place her finger on the source of her discomfort.
Was it the phony concern and over-the-top motherly endearments?
Or had it been something more insidious than the cold malice and hunger in the gorgeous woman’s eyes?
For as long as Emma could remember since her vampiric transformation, she’d had a gift for predicting danger, and the flash of terror she’d received on the day she met Margot had been exceptional, a sledgehammer to the chest stopping her heart for the span of two beats.
She’d panicked, excused herself, and rushed away to her computer.
Three months later, Brennan accepted her request to join Dartmouth, and she’d found it a quiet, welcoming home ever since.
Then summer arrived the next year and the unthinkable occurred.
Rosenhaven Coven was ruined, the plantation gone up in flames, the Ancient’s withered husk found without a single drop of blood in its dry veins.
Once the authorities had extinguished the fires, the damning evidence painted a picture of the coven’s awful misdeeds.
The Overseers, a terrifying squad of powerful vampire elders tasked with enforcing their laws, had spent every moment since then hunting for Margot Calloway to bring her to justice.
Would they even be able to destroy her if they did encounter her?
By draining the sleeping Ancient in their coven’s cellar, Margot had taken Lamashtu’s power into herself.
According to the witches’ council and the shifters who intervened in her plans, she hadn’t worked alone, but even a portion of the old one’s blood would be enough to allow her to stand up against several Overseers.
“I believe you,” Adrian said softly, interrupting her thoughts.
Seeming to realize a silent drive would only add unnecessary tension between them, he tapped a button on the car’s digital console until the satellite radio identified their current station as The Best of Classic Rock.
It played at a gentle volume, loud enough for distinct lyrics without discouraging conversation.
“Thank you.”
“What made you decide to leave?”
“A bad feeling.” She closed her eyes. “The coven wasn’t the same as when I first joined. I felt uncomfortable there, so I figured it was time for a change.” It wasn’t the full story, but each word was true. “About a year later, they were destroyed.”
“A bad feeling,” he repeated. “A bad feeling that happened to come true a year later and result in the largest wipe of any one coven we've ever seen in vampire history.”
“Pretty much, yeah. Just a feeling. Time to go.” It sounded lame to her ears, but she didn’t know what else to say without sharing deeper secrets about herself. And Adrian had already taken too much from her—then tossed it aside.
“There’s a thermos in the back seat with some blood. I suggest you drink up.”
“I don’t nee—”
“You’re going in front of the council, Emmaleigh. Don’t let them see any weakness. Present a strong front.”